


Family Portrait

by sunnylil



Series: A Place To Feel At Home [3]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Christmas, Domestic, Domestic Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Fluff, Foster Care, Ian Gallagher Loves Mickey Milkovich, M/M, Mickey Milkovich Loves Ian Gallagher, Parents Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-12 08:07:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16869262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunnylil/pseuds/sunnylil
Summary: It’s Christmas Eve, it’s two-thirty, and they’re running late.Hailey's first Christmas at her foster home.





	Family Portrait

There’s a Christmas song blasting out of Yevgeny’s room, drowning out the soft voices behind the door Ian has been staring at.

It’s Christmas Eve, it’s two-thirty, and they’re running late.

“Why aren’t you wearing any socks?”

Yevgeny looks at him with innocent eyes, his arms still pretending to play air-guitar. Ian crosses the boy’s room to turn the volume of the loudspeaker down. _Jingle Bell Rock_ is barely audible anymore and judging by Yevgeny’s face, that was the wrong decision.

“Carl’s plane lands in less than in an hour, we have to get going, Yev.”

“Fine,” the boy groans, “Can I at least wear the ones with the snowmen?”

“Are they in your drawer? If so, go ahead.”

Ian turns off the loudspeakers completely while Yevgeny’s rummaging through his sock drawer.

“Found them,” he proudly presents a pair of grey socks with snowmen to Mickey, who’s leaning against the doorframe.

“Awesome,” Mickey deadpans, before looking at Ian, “She’s going to meet us at the house.”

“You think she’s going to be ok?”

“Yeah. She’s tough,” Mickey nods, “Yevgeny since when do you need five minutes to put on your fucking socks? We gotta leave!”

 

* * *

 

They meet Fiona, Lip, Liam, Debbie and Franny in the parking lot of the airport, five minutes before the plane’s supposed to land.

“Sorry we’re late,” Ian presses a kiss to his niece’s head, “Apparently socks are overrated.”

“No worries, baggage claim’s probably gonna take ages,” Fiona dismisses.

“We’re planning on going in there or do you like freezing to death?”

They join the group of waiting people at the arrival gate, looking at the announcement board.

“It’s Charlottesville, right?” Fiona asks, squinting at the screen.

“Yeah, it already landed.” Lip confirms.

Yevgeny and Franny get bored immediately and start to play catch, giggling and chasing each other. Ian alternates between checking on them, his phone and the gate.

“Relax.” Mickey squeezes his shoulder and frowns at him.

“We shouldn’t have let her stay at the house.”

“Torture her with a Gallagher family reunion instead?” Mickey quirks an eyebrow. “I think she’s better off at home.”

Ian rolls his eyes and shoves him but smiles nonetheless.

“There he is,” Debbie squeals.

It’s a rather movie-worthy reunion and Ian and the rest stay back to watch it. Debbie has always been the closest to Carl, just like Ian has always been the closest to Lip, who’s now standing next to him, fighting to keep his eyes open.

“Ryan with Val?” Ian asks him, while they watch Debbie run up to Carl, who’s dropping his duffel bag to hug her properly.

“Yeah. They’re gonna come over later. I’m gonna take a nap as soon as we’re home,” Lip mutters.

“He’s not even in uniform,” Debbie pouts when the two of them finally make their way to the rest of the family.

“I could’ve warned you Debbs,” Ian laughs, before hugging Carl, “Welcome back little brother.” He runs a hand over Carl’s short hair and grins. “Nice.”

“Jesus, you all act as if I’ve been deployed already. I was in Virgina, not some –stan. It’s just AIT, chill out,” Carl grumbles.

“I haven’t seen you since you graduated basic, you barely call, I’m allowed to miss you,” Fiona states as she wipes a tear away.

“Why aren’t you wearing a uniform? Dad told me you’re a soldier now.” Yevgeny looks up at his uncle, brows furrowed sceptically. “You’re not a real soldier without a uniform.”

“I can show it to you when we’re home, all right?” Carl ruffles Yevgeny’s hair and they make their way to the parking lot.

* * *

 

It’s Christmas Eve, it’s six-thirty, and the living room is nearly bursting at the seams.

It’s Christmas Eve, it’s six-thirty, and Ian, Mickey and Fiona spent the last two hours in the kitchen preparing the dishes that are now getting devoured.

Carl’s entertaining Debbie, Liam, Yevgeny and Hailey with stories from advanced training, Franny’s explaining the plot of her favourite movie (Big Hero Six) to Fiona and Valeria and Lip’s trying and failing to feed Ryan some mashed potatoes.

“Jesus, Lip, you haven’t even touched your roast beef yet,” Ian shakes his head and snatches the spoon from his brother’s hand, “I’m done, let me feed him.”

Lip looks at him with deep gratitude and mutters “Thanks, man, I’m starving.”

Ryan seems to enjoy being fed by his uncle way more and happily eats his mashed potatoes while Ian’s making faces at him.

Ian doesn’t even notice that the whole table has gone silent at first.

“What?”

Everybody’s looking at him, smiling in varying degrees.

“You were making noises,” Fiona explains.

“You were _babbling_ ,” Mickey clarifies with a shit-eating grin.

“I was entertaining him. Nothing unusual. Let me make my nephew laugh and mind your own business,” Ian laughs and turns back to Ryan to wipe his mouth.

* * *

 

“Is it now time for presents?”

Yevgeny’s the most annoying eight-year old that ever existed. Also the most adorable, but right now he’s grating on Ian’s nerves.

“You’ve been asking that for the last hour, Yev. I said after the pie.”

“But I’m done with my pie.”

“I’m not,” Mickey chews, “So shut it.”

The table resembles a battlefield. There have been three different types of pie and there’s nothing left.

“I’m never gonna eat anything again,” Ian sighs, after the last crumb of cinnamon pie disappeared from his plate.

Yevgeny looks at him while bouncing up and down in his seat.

“Did you bring your present with you? Go get it.”

They’re doing Secret Santa, like pretty much every year.

Mickey looks at Ian and whispers: “Did _we_ bring _our_ presents?”

“What do you mean ours, Mick? I brought mine, that’s all I know,” Ian teases, before making a vague gesture towards the kitchen, “They’re in my back bag. Do you even know to whom you were assigned?”

“Uh,” Mickey scratches his neck, “Val? I think? I don’t care about that shit, you fucking know that.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s the last time I’m doing this for you,” Ian states, before pressing a kiss to his husband’s temple and getting up to get the presents.

Lip’s comment “Doesn’t he say that every year?” earns a one-finger salute from both of them.

 

Half an hour later Yevgeny’s happily running his new remote-controlled truck through the living room and Lip, Val and a sleeping Ryan are the first ones to set out into the biting cold. Hailey’s curled up on the sofa, engrossed in _Black Panther Vs. Deadpool_ Carl got her after calling Ian to ask him for advice. She doesn’t seem to unhappy and Ian feels a wave of relief wash over him at the sight. They are the next ones to leave, despite Fiona’s protest to just stay overnight.

“It’s less than a five-minute drive, we’re fine,” Ian repeats for the sixth time while putting on the new handmade gloves Val gave him, “Santa’s going to be confused where to put Yevgeny’s presents tonight.”

Fi smiles at that, nods in understanding and hugs them goodbye, each one, tightly.

Ian can’t stop smiling on the drive home, watching Yev and Hailey on the backseat, one about to fall asleep, the other one staring out of the window.

They don’t talk that much, just _Good night, sleep well_ and _See you in the morning_ , and Hailey disappears into her room, while Mickey’s dealing with a whiny Yev and Ian puts the leftovers in the fridge.

He’s still smiling when Mickey wraps his arms around his middle, as Ian’s brushing his teeth, pressing his face into his back.

“Did we wrap everything?” The older one’s voice is muffled.

Ian spits toothpaste into the sink. “It’s in the top drawer in the bedroom.”

Mickey doesn’t move.

“Mick?”

“I just need a sec,” he inhales deeply, “Maybe I’ll just never move again.”

“Is that so?” Ian turns around before intertwining their fingers. “Oops. You moved.”

“Shithead,” Mickey laughs and reaches up to kiss him.

“Merry Christmas, love.”

“Not yet,” he mumbles against Ian’s lips.

“It’s after midnight, it’s officially Christmas.”

“Ah fuck it then. Merry Christmas.”

* * *

 

It’s Christmas Day, it’s eight-thirty and Ian wants to stay in bed forever.

Problem is, Yevgeny has other plans.

“Christmas! It’s Christmas! Dads! There are presents!”

“Yeah, so what? Do you need help opening them?” Mickey’s mutters, his face buried into the pillow.

“Yevgeny, wait,” Ian yells after him, as the boy runs out of their bedroom, “We’re gonna open them together. Go and annoy Hailey. Give us a minute.”

Mickey doesn’t budge.

“Come on,” Ian nudges him, “It’s _Christmas_.”

“Your Yev impression is really bad.”

“He’s gonna open all the presents without us. Do you wanna miss it? Come on.”

“What about my presents?” Mickey squints at him, his lips curling up in a smile.

“Yeah, well, you gotta get up to find out.”

“You sure about that?”

Ian really doesn’t want to leave their bed, especially not when Mickey’s kissing him like that, but he pulls away anyway. “Come on!”

 

Hailey and Yevgeny are already sitting on the living room floor when they finally emerge out of the bedroom, starring at the presents under the tree like it’s a puzzle to solve.

“There aren’t any name tags,” Yevgeny complains, “Why didn’t you use nametags?”

“What do you mean _we_ ,” Ian gasps, “Santa brought the presents.”

“Please,” Yevgeny rolls his eyes, “Mama says I’m too old to believe that shit. Which ones are for me?”

“Aye, stop bitching, kid. You can be glad there are any.”

Yevgeny groans and impatiently crosses his arms.

“What’s your favorite color Yev?” Ian hints and their son starts beaming before yelling, “Green!” and grabs the first present.

Hailey, who’s watched the whole exchange in mild amusement, hands Mickey a package that’s been sitting next to her.

“Merry Christmas,” she doesn’t look them in the eyes.

“Merry Christmas,” Ian smiles and nods towards the presents, “The other one’s are for you.”

Hailey looks at him in bewilderment.

“What? You thought you wouldn’t get any presents?” Mickey scoffs.

“I don’t know, I mean…Maybe one?” she shrugs and motions towards the package in Mickey’s hands. “Open it.”

It’s a pencil drawing of the four of them, sitting on the backstairs to the Gallagher house. Mickey and Ian are sitting in the back, Mickey’s tattoos clearly visible on the hand that he put on Ian’s shoulder. Yevgeny and Hailey are sitting in front of them, Yevgeny holding a popsickle and beaming, Hailey raising both of her middle fingers.

“That was on the 4th of July right?” Mickey doesn’t look up, still studying the drawing.

“Yeah. I copied from the pic Lip took.”

“It’s awesome. Thank you. How long have you been working on that?”

“A while. It’s nothing, really,” Hailey blushes.

For a while, they watch Yevgeny open his presents (a new PJ, a few books and _LEGO Marvel Super Heroes_ (that Ian miraculously was able to get for less than 10 bucks)) and Hailey admire hers (a new sketch book, a set of pencils and a new scarf). Hailey glares towards her phone every five seconds or so and when it finally rings, she disappears into her room in a matter of seconds.

Yevgeny stares after her, his hands gripping his new copy of _Charlotte’s Web._ “Is she okay?”

“She’s probably talking to her mom, Yev,” Mickey explains, “Christmas is all about family and it’s hard not to be able to spend with the people you’d like to.”

“Doesn’t she want to spend it with us?”

“Sure she does. But she also misses her mom. Got nothing to do with us, all right?”

Yevgeny frowns at his dad for a second and looks back at the book in his hand. “Can I play the new game?”

There are still two presents left under the tree, both wrapped up in newspaper. Mickey grabs the bigger one while Ian helps Yevgeny to start the game.

“Merry Christmas,” he hands it to him as soon as he sits back down and Ian carefully unwraps it.

It’s a black photo album inscribed in Mickey’s handwriting _Year one_.

“What is it?” Ian looks at his husband with wide-eyes.

“Open it,” Mickey simply says.

“Aww, no.”

On the first page his one-year younger tux-wearing self is beaming back at him, standing next to Mickey, both holding their ringed fingers into the camera. Underneath Mickey scrawled in silver writing: _Day One_

And so it goes on. A picture of them with Yevgeny, Christmas Day last year, a pretty shitty selfie of them kissing on New Year’s eve, Yevgeny’s birthday…

“That’s the one Hailey copied from, right?” Ian points at one of them and Mickey nods.

“I can’t believe you actually printed them out and took the time...” Ian wraps his arms around Mickey’s neck, “Thank you. It’s perfect.”

“The hell is this?” Mickey stares at the open box in his hand with raised brows.

“It’s a dog tag,” Ian grins.

“I can tell it’s a dog tag, smartass. The engraving. Those…waves?” He looks at him in confusion.

“These are soundwaves.”

“Soundwaves. What the fuck?”

“It’s _I love you_. It’s how it sounds like when I say _I love you_.”

“You thought I’d forget otherwise?” Mickey grins and slips the leather necklace over his head.

“I want you to never forget that.”

“Corny motherfucker,” Mickey rolls his eyes but pulls him into a kiss nonetheless.

 

* * *

 

“Hailey?” Ian knocks against her bedroom door. It’s been two hours since she disappeared into her room, her phone pressed against her ear. There’s no answer, so he just keeps talking. “Svetlana just picked Yevgeny up, so we’re on our own. You want to do anything?”

The door opens and Ian tries to hide his relief.

“It’s not my first Christmas without her, you know.” Hailey frowns at him, but that doesn’t hide her puffy eyes.

“Still gotta be hard though.”

She shrugs.

“You wanna just stay in your room the rest of the day? Because that’s fine but a bit of distraction wouldn’t hurt either, don’t you think?” Mickey raises his eyebrows at her.

“Distraction? Like what?”

“We could go to the movies.”

She looks over her shoulder, as if to check if there’s something more inviting there.

“There aren’t any good movies playing,” she turns back to them, gnawing her lip, “But we still haven’t had that _Tekken_ rematch you promised me after beating my ass last time.”

Ian nods and turns around, calling over his shoulder on the way back to the living room.

“But don’t expect any mercy just because it’s Christmas.”


End file.
